


Fernweh

by star_child



Series: The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, M/M, Roommates, i don't think i ever say they're dating, rated for noya's lack of tact, so you can take it as you will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 08:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10486080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_child/pseuds/star_child
Summary: (f-AIR-n-vee)nouna crave for travel





	

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry this took so long, i originally had another story with another word, but i wasn't really feeling it so i was stuck for like a month and a half... i wrote this one in like a week so :/

“Akaashi! Look at this!”

Akaashi closes his eyes behind his mug of coffee, prays to the still-rising sun for strength.

“Akaashi!!”

He opens tired eyes. “Yes, Bokuto-san?”

There's immediately a magazine in his hands where there was a mug, and he hardly has time to wonder how he didn't drop it. He's unsure what he's supposed to be looking at, at first, with the chaotic cover and all its colors. But then Bokuto’s finger is jabbing at one of the corners, at a small ad in small print that is just too small for Akaashi to focus on this early.

“What is it?” he asks, prays this time for patience as Bokuto draws in a breath to speak.

“It's a chance to win a trip!” Bokuto exclaims, and the magazine is gone as quickly as it arrived. “To Korea! For a week! Isn't that cool?”

Akaashi drinks in the idea with some coffee, swallows it too fast so it burns his throat. “We can't go on a trip, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi sighs. He can't tell if the bitterness he tastes is from the coffee or the disappointment on his roommate’s face. “There's too much to do here.”

Bokuto full on pouts. “Like  _ what _ ,” he whines.

“Like classes,” Akaashi reasons. “And work. I'm only a few months away from finishing my degree, it's critical that I keep my grades up. And you have to keep things running at the shop. Hinata-kun and Noya-kun certainly can't keep things running by themselves.”

“But Yukie –”

“Can't handle things by herself either,” Akaashi cuts in smoothly. “I like Shirofuku-san, but she's too inexperienced still. You have too many upcoming appointments. She couldn't possibly take them all.”

The tattoo shop that Bokuto co-owns with his long time friend Shirofuku Yukie is only a few blocks from their apartment and Akaashi’s campus, and while it's by no means famous, they have a running website and a good amount of business. The website is run by Hinata, a budding web design student, finances are managed by Yukie with occasional help from Akaashi, and Noya is mostly a designer, also punished with the title of receptionist. Bokuto and Yukie are the only ones certified to administer tattoos, but Yukie prefers not to, not yet confident enough for that one shot permanent ink.

Left to their own devices, they’d probably go bankrupt and burn the place down in a matter of hours.

Bokuto does his best pout, but it's lost to the coffee mug repositioned in front of Akaashi’s face.

* * *

Akaashi stops walking when he realizes Bokuto is no longer beside him. He takes a deep breath before turning around, spotting the older boy further back on the sidewalk. He’s staring at a poster in a window, after a moment Akaashi recognizes the building as Temple University, an American college. They give their students the option to study abroad in Tokyo.

_ Visit our American Campus! _ The sign says in Japanese. Bokuto looks on wistfully.

“Wouldn’t it be amazing to go to college in America?” he sighs as Akaashi returns to his side.

“It would,” Akaashi agrees, not particularly because he thinks so, but because sometimes with Bokuto you just have to squash down logic and agree with him. “But you didn’t graduate with enough credits to go to college,” he reminds gently.

Bokuto deflates, just the tiniest bit. Akaashi hates seeing it happen, but someone has to be the voice of reason. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbles.

* * *

It's nearing the end of the semester, and Akaashi is trying not to let his grades drop like the temperature. This means hours of studying, of pouring over and rewriting notes again and again and going through flashcards, reading textbooks he finds dusty in the library… It's exhausting. He's been at it for hours. He needs a break.

Right as he drops his pen in the spine of his textbook to hold his place, the front door opens.

Bokuto has long since stopped hollering in announcement when he gets home, after Akaashi yelled at him time after time for waking him up or distracting him. He doesn't exactly come in quietly – kicking off his shoes and rustling bags and humming – but it's quiet by Bokuto standards. Akaashi stands as he enters the living room.

“Hi Akaashi!”

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi smiles, leaning one way and then the other to stretch his back. “How was work?”

“It was awesome!” Bokuto crows. “I had an appointment with this guy who wanted me to add to a back tattoo, it goes like all the way across his shoulders!” He heads toward the kitchen to drop off what are presumably grocery bags, and Akaashi follows with interest. “It's a world map,” Bokuto continues, “Like, just a real simple outline of all the countries, y’know? Like a paper map.”

“That does sound interesting.”

“But that’s not the best part!” Bokuto waves a tub of butter around in his enthusiasm before realizing himself, and tosses it in the fridge. Akaashi smiles. “The cool part is, this guy is a traveler, or whatever. Like a world traveler. So he goes to all these different countries all the time – he was British, I think, he didn't speak much Japanese except like, ‘Hello’ and ‘My name is Mark,’ he had a translator with him – so he goes to all these different countries all over the world, partially for work, and partially as like volunteer stuff, his guy was telling me.”

Akaashi pulls himself up to sit on the counter, does some arm stretches and sighs when his shoulder pops. “Did he say what his job was?” He thinks he can tell where this is going, but he lets Bokuto keep telling his story.

“That program Doctors Without Borders, I think. That Oikawa was so interested in? I think it was that. But like, the super coolest part is, wherever he goes, if he can, he gets a little colorful dot tattooed on the map on his back! Like those people who put thumbtacks on a map on the wall of places they visit, only it was on his skin! Isn't that cool?!”

“That's definitely creative,” Akaashi agrees from the counter. He digs an orange out of a bag within reach and starts peeling it. “Must have been the easiest tattoo you’ve ever done.”

“Oh yeah, definitely, it hardly took any time at all but they stayed for so long telling me about it.” He gets that faraway look in his eyes, the one that means his heart and soul are a million miles away in a place he’s never been. “There were already so many dots,” he sighs. “The guy couldn't have been older than like, mid thirties, but he's already been to every continent. Except Antarctica. Cuz there's not a whole lot of sick people there. Or any people.”

“Do the penguins not get medicare?” Akaashi asks with a small smile as he finishes peeling his orange. He peels off a slice to eat, peels off another to hand to Bokuto.

“Nah, penguins are tough,” Bokuto says before shoving the orange slice in his mouth. He makes ridiculous faces until he smiles wide, the orange in front of his teeth. Akaashi laughs so hard he almost chokes.

* * *

It's not uncommon for Akaashi to spend time in Bokuto’s shop. He likes the employees, he likes the atmosphere, he likes tattoos. It's a nice place to be when he needs to just exist in the presence of familiar people.

He's sitting out front now, in the little receptionist area with the co-owner Yukie and the two boys. Bokuto is out picking up their dinner.

Noya spins restlessly in his chair, chewing on his pen as he watches Hinata and Yukie. “Try that one!” he shouts, whipping his pen at the screen of Hinata’s laptop. Hinata yelps and yanks his computer out of the way.

“No damaging the tech!” he shouts back. Akaashi smiles as Yukie absently retrieves the pen from the floor. She shoves it into her bun.

“Which one, Noya?” she asks, calm as ever.

He points desperately, but he's too far away for it to mean anything.

Yukie sighs, and Akaashi sees a lot of himself in her. “You may get up.”

As a general rule and for the good of everyone, Noya is forbidden to leave his chair unless given explicit permission, it's to deal with a customer, or he has to pee. He leaps up as soon as Yukie says.

Hinata flinches back again as Noya flies toward the screen, but he stops before any damage is done. “That one!” he repeats, pointing to a design of an eagle in flights. “It's beautiful, detailed enough to be real but simple enough that it can still be done at a small scale.”

“Okay,” Hinata shrugs, and clicks on the image to make it bigger. “Have at it, Yukie-san.”

Yukie bites her lip as she picks up her eyeliner pen, turning Hinata’s arm over to the blank underside. Hinata pulls out his phone as she sets to work copying the tattoo.

After a few minutes of quiet – Noya returns to his chair, Akaashi returns to his book, and Yukie loses herself in her work – Hinata groans.

Noya is the fastest to react. “What's up, man?” he asks, twirling a new pen delicately through his small fingers.

“My parents want me to go back up to Miyagi for the weekend.” Hinata throws his head back dramatically, careful not to jostle his arm after Yukie pinches it. “Natsu’s middle school soccer team made it to a tournament, so they want me to go cheer for her, or whatever.”

“I think it would be a good idea to go,” Akaashi voices. “You haven't seen your family in a while.”

“Yeah, for a  _ reason,” _ he groans. “I look like  _ this _ now!” He gestures to the undercut, the studs in his ears, the ring in his nose, the actual tattoos that curl around his right shoulder and bicep, and the ones in eyeliner pen on his left arm that Yukie has been practicing with. “They’d disown me.”

“They wouldn't disown you,” Yukie mumbles, still focused on her work. “A couple of tattoos aren't gonna ruin their lives. Hair grows back. Piercings close.”

“Always the realist, Yukie-san, just let me dramatic,” Hinata mumbles.

“She's right though,” Noya chirps. “You can just wear a sweatshirt or something to hide your tattoos, and take out your earrings. Your ears aren't stretched or anything, so the little holes wouldn't be noticeable really. And how long have you had your nose pierced?”

“I don't know, like seven, eight months?”

“You’ll be fine without it for a weekend.”

“But Miyagi is so  _ far,” _ Hinata goes on. “It’s like, three hours by train.”

The bell above the door chimes as he’s talking, and Bokuto reenters, bags of takeout in his hands. Noya begins wiggling excitedly. “Where’s three hours by train?” Bokuto asks, handing Noya the bags to dig through for his order.

“My parents want me to visit them for a weekend back home,” Hinata sulks, slouching in his seat.

“If you don’t stop  _ moving _ –” Yukie growls.

“My sister’s having some soccer tournament.”

“You should go!” Bokuto says. “I’ll come with you! I like Miyagi!” He whirls on Akaashi, who is so surprised he nearly drops his book. “Can’t I go, Akaashi? Pleeaaase?”

Akaashi blinks, looks away and takes the bags of food from Noya so he has something else to look at. “I suppose,” he mumbles, embarrassed at the way Hinata and Noya’s attention is now on him as well. “It’s just a weekend.”

Bokuto dances in place, and Akaashi passes the food to Yukie.

* * *

“You’re sure you don’t want to come, Akaashi?” Bokuto asks for the hundredth time as he stands in the doorway to the apartment.

Akaashi waves his hand dismissively, hardly glances up from his dinner. “I have too much homework to do, Bokuto-san, I told you. Don’t keep your disciple waiting.” If he stays any longer he’s going to make them miss their train.

“Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I’ll see you on Sunday, Akaashi!”

“Goodbye, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says quietly as Bokuto aggressively waves and slams the door behind him, leaving the apartment quiet. “Travel safe,” Akaashi whispers to no one.

* * *

Things without Bokuto are quiet.

There’s no way around it. No matter how loud he turns up the TV, or his music, or opens the windows, it’s just  _ quiet. _

It’s nice for the remainder of Friday night, when he can just finish his dinner, clean the dishes, and relax with this week’s book on the couch. He doesn't have to look up and acknowledge Bokuto every few minutes and lose his place, or try to focus through him playing video games or talking on the phone. He doesn’t have to put in headphones to fall asleep while Bokuto moves around the apartment until the early hours of the morning.

It's quiet.

By Saturday morning, it's stifling.

Bokuto is one of those people who stays up late and gets up early, and usually his morning commotion serves as enough of an alarm for Akaashi. Without it, he sleeps in until ten.

Luckily there isn't a class for him to be missing, so he's spared a rushed, crazy morning of trying to look alive before booking it to campus, but he still has things to  _ do  _ today. Two projects, a chapter of his textbook and the accompanying questions, and preparation for a socratic seminar, all for Monday and Tuesday. He wastes half an hour chugging coffee trying to wake up.

For maybe an hour, probably a little less, things seem to go well. The apartment is so  _ peaceful _ , he powers through his first project without a hitch. It's uploaded to Drive and shared with the professor before noon.

As he begins work on the second project, things start to go downhill.

Things are a little bit too quiet, without Bokuto's gentle chatter and inquiries about what he's doing. Akaashi finds himself looking up every few minutes and just staring across the room, waiting. Waiting to be interrupted before getting back to work, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing happens.

He takes all afternoon to finish the second project, though it should have taken only an hour.

By Sunday, it's practically unbearable.

Akaashi keeps it together through the morning, but as soon as Bokuto's shop opens at one, he heads down, desperate for company. Even Noya and Yukie’s bickering is welcome.

And bickering is what he gets.

Nishinoya and Yukie are, by all definitions, polar opposites. Noya is small, but bursting with energy and excitement. Yukie is tall and calm, almost sleepy looking, at all times. Noya is easy to rile up, fiery, ambitious. Yukie either has endless patience or cares about literally nothing.

The only thing they have in common is art. But even there, Yukie prefers cartoons and illustration, while Noya prefers hyper realism and even photography.

Polar opposites.

They're arguing about who would make a better astronaut.

“I'm  _ telling  _ you,” Noya says as Akaashi enters the shop, the bell above the door chiming to announce him, “It's  _ me.” _ He's leaning so far forward in his chair that he's bound to tip over any second, glaring at Yukie.

Yukie is sitting on the back counter, barefoot, painting her toe nails with a lollipop in her mouth. She finishes a toe and pulls it out of her mouth. “See, you're just wrong,” she deadpans, offering Akaashi a head nod as he makes his way over to them.

Noya whips around to see who she nodded at, and throws his weight toward Akaashi, effectively tipping him off balance and sending himself sprawling to the floor.

He's not deterred. “Akaashi-san!” he greets from the industrial carpet, “Who do you think would make a better astronaut, me or Yukie-san?” He doesn't give him a chance to answer. “I think me, cuz I'm smaller, and cooler! Yukie-san says I'm too reckless and I'd break something.”

“You're also too unreliable,” she adds, back to painting her toes.

“Well you're just too mean!” Noya shoots back. He looks back at Akaashi as he finally stands and rights his chair. “What do you think?”

Akaashi straightens his back. He's missed this. “I think  _ I _ would make the best astronaut.”

* * *

Akaashi won't admit it, but he's relieved when Noya invites him to the train station to welcome Hinata and Bokuto back. It's right down the street from the apartment and the shop and Akaashi’s campus, like everything is.

Yukie stays behind to act like she's watching the counter, and Noya tugs him excitedly by the hand toward the train station. From the way he’s babbling about missing them, you’d think Hinata and Bokuto had been gone for two  _ months, _ not two days.

Noya bounces on his toes the entire time they’re at the station, until Akaashi orders him to hop back and forth (or side to side) over a crack in the pavement until he wears himself out.

After five minutes of Noya’s tireless hopping (he only seems to get faster) the train their friends are on pulls slowly to a stop in front of them. Noya stops jumping for the few seconds between when the train stops and when the station floods with people, and then he starts again, trying to see above their heads.

It’s quite clear to Akaashi when their friends are spotted. Noya starts whooping and hollering and waving his arms like a madman, and after a few moments Bokuto’s telltale head of feathery, monochromatic hair comes into view. A few seconds more and Hinata’s neon orange head appears as well.

“Akaashiiii!” Bokuto exclaims as he charges up, immediately scooping Akaashi into a bear hug. Akaashi allows himself to return the embrace, thankful at least that he’s been allowed to remain on his feet.

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” he smiles when he’s release. He nods over at the shorter boy, who’s being bombarded with questions as much as he’s having the life squeezed out of him by Noya. He nods back.

“Akaashi Miyagi was so  _ nice! _ It’s so quiet up there, and the mountains are a lot closer, and Hinata’s parents were so  _ nice  _ and his sister was so  _ cute! _ And her team did so well, they made it to the second day! Natsu introduced us to her friends…”

Bokuto continues rambling as he picks up his duffle bag, discarded when he hugged Akaashi, and starts leading the four of them back toward the tattoo shop.

* * *

If Akaashi was hoping for the trip to Miyagi to cure Bokuto of his insatiable need to get away, it does the complete opposite. He takes every opportunity to talk about the weekend, and how much Akaashi would have enjoyed this bit or that bit.

Akaashi points out that most of what he ‘would have enjoyed’ could easily be done there in Tokyo, but Bokuto has become obsessed with, “The bucolic country life,” as he calls it. Akaashi didn’t think he even knew what bucolic meant.

“There’s just like, there’s such a nice vibe up there,” Bokuto goes on over dinner the following Thursday night. “Like everything is so  _ quiet, _ you can’t always hear the trains or cars or anything. It’s just like. Nature. Everywhere.” Bokuto takes a bite of food. “And trees! They’re just these casual trees like all over the place, in the middle of yards, like they’re just there.”

“Sounds nice,” Akaashi forces out.

“We should take a trip up there! To the mountains or something!”

“Bokuto-san, we have plenty of mountains right here.”

“But it’s not the saaaame,” Bokuto whines.

“It is the same,” Akaashi says through gritted teeth.

Bokuto doesn’t notice his mood, too wrapped up in a place hundreds of miles away. “Y’know, they have a really big mountain range over in America, in the west side of America, so that’s kind of close to here! Just across the Pacific! I think they’re called the Rocks, or something.”

“The Rocky Mountains,” Akaashi corrects automatically.

“That’s it!” Bokuto snaps. “Or there’s also Hawaii. That’s a little closer.”

Akaashi takes a small breath, pushes his annoyance down. It’s not that he’s really so opposed to travel, he just needs Bokuto to understand that there is work to be done here. They can’t just drop everything and go somewhere else. “I’m not sure… how welcome we would be in Hawaii,” he says, picking his words.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you ever pay attention in school?” Akaashi sighs. Bokuto shakes his head, and honestly Akaashi believes him. “World War Two. We bombed a fleet of their ships and the town. Pearl Harbor? December 7th? Do you honestly remember none of this?”

Bokuto squints his eyes. “Pearl Harbor sounds kind of familiar.”

Akaashi drops his head, defeated.

* * *

Two weeks after Bokuto's trip to Miyagi, Akaashi finds multiple travel guides between the couch cushions. They’re for all over the place. One is for Disney World in Florida, America. One is for Italy. One is for the Eiffel Tower, in France. One is for that big Jesus statue in Rio. One is for Niagara Falls in Canada.

Akaashi throws them all away.

* * *

“I swear to  _ God _ I want his  _ entire dick _ shoved so far down my throat I feel it in my lungs.”

Hinata is on the floor in an instant.

Akaashi chokes on his coffee.

“ _ Nishinoya Yuu.” _ Yukie scolds.

Bokuto is cackling on the other side of the thin paper divider, apologizing profusely to the customer he’s inking between laughs.

“I’m  _ sorry,” _ Noya hisses, though they know he isn’t. Hinata attempts to push himself back up into his chair. “I can’t  _ help it _ though. He’s so  _ tall _ and that  _ man bun I want him to eat my ass _ –”

“Nishinoya you will  _ shut your mouth right now _ if you know what’s good for you,” Yukie warns. She lowers her voice as Hinata crashes back down with a high pitched inhuman noise. “You will  _ not _ go shouting that shit when there are customers in here, do you understand me?”

Akaashi pounds on his chest with his fist, trying to clear the coffee from his windpipe. “You’re an  _ animal,” _ he wheezes.

“Listeeeen,” Noya whines, “He’s so hot I just want –”

“You stop,” Yukie warns. “Don’t finish that.”

Hinata flops back into his chair, hand over his heart like he’s just been killed and then resurrected. “Why don’t you just  _ go get him  _ then?” he asks.

All the want and emphasis seems to drain out of Noya. (It’s disorienting, because Noya is about 90% want and emphasis). “He’s overseas,” he mumbles. “He’s at school in Canada.”

“I hear Canada’s nice,” Hinata comments, brushing floor dust off his legs before tucking them under himself. “They got that huge waterfall, or whatever.”

“Niagara Falls,” Akaashi offers automatically, and immediately regrets it when he hears Bokuto exclaim in recognition.

“I’ve always wanted to go there,” he comments. “It seems nice.” The customer chimes in a agreement.

“I can give you his number if you want, Bokuto-san,” Noya offers, and Akaashi tries not to cringe. The last thing he needs is Bokuto getting a first hand account on how nice some foreign country is.

“That’d be great,” he says, before falling silent as he’s absorbed in his work again.

* * *

When Akaashi wakes, the apartment is suspiciously quiet.

He doesn’t have class for a few hours, but he pushes himself up anyway, curious as to why Bokuto is not causing a ruckus. He’s been acting strange the last few days, shouting more instead of just speaking in normal conversations, holding his hands behind his back and leaning forward whenever he’s standing, like a bird about to take flight. Quiet is not a word to describe him as of late.

The apartment is still when Akaashi opens his door. There isn’t a movie playing on the tv, or music coming from the radio in the kitchen, or even the hum of the dishwasher.

As he ventures further down the hall, he takes in the coldness of the floor, the chill in the air. Bokuto usually turns the heat up when he wakes up, even if he’s going out. The apartment is always warm when Akaashi wakes.

His arrival in the kitchen is met with silence, stillness. Things seem… sparse. He feels like something is missing. Chalking it up to the strange silence that seems to weigh on him from all sides, Akaashi moves to the living room to further investigate.

It’s even emptier than the kitchen. Most of the random knick knacks are gone, as well as… the Xbox? Have they been robbed? Akaashi tenses, but then he realizes that his tv is still there, as well as his Wii and iMac. So Bokuto is gone, and he took the Xbox?

Akaashi turns around to head back down the hall, figuring he should probably check Bokuto’s room. One thought nags him, but he pushes it back, refuses to think about it.  _ There’s no way… _

He takes a deep breath before entering Bokuto’s room.

It shakes on the way out, cracks on half a sob.

The room has been picked clean.

The bed remains. The bureau. The desk and chair. Almost every piece of clothing is gone from the closet, the floor, the open dresser drawers. There are no sheets on the bed, no pictures on the wall, no plants by the window. Every pair of shoes is gone from the corner, all the old books and Bokuto’s deodorant, cologne, vitamins.

A single piece of paper stares at Akaashi from the bed, folded in half, daring him to look at what it holds. With shaking hands, he unfolds it, smoothes it out against the mattress.

_ Akaashi, _

_ I’m sorry for leaving without any notice! I was afraid if I told you, you’d find a way to talk me out of it, and convince me to stay. But I don’t want to stay! I want to see what else is out there! The rest of Asia, Europe and America, South America. _

_ I’m starting with Canada. I spent a lot of time talking to that guy Noya likes so much, and I’m staying with him. I don’t have a number for there yet, but here’s his. _

_ I’ll miss you! _

_ Bokuto _


End file.
